The Art of Fancy

Shake my finger at her; or pull out the camera? “You need to take those off, they’re Miss Q’s,” I finally said; my smile masked. The ultimate little sister maneuver: taking and wearing of the big sis’ stuff.

Sure, the sticker earrings had been sitting on our mantle for the better part of a two weeks but the last thing I wanted to mediate after school was jade coloured sticker-earrings. Not to mention, the earrings had been more of an eleventh hour grab at the hairdresser when Miss Q couldn’t decide (read: didn’t want) any of the other prizes.

But that’s not the point. The point was the earrings were Miss Q’s, and Miss S needed to remove them from her ears.

Miss S’s eye for style (or lack there of depending who you ask) has been well documented throughout her four years. Her infant days started normally enough, but as soon as she was old enough to have an opinion, watch out Anna Wintour.

Skirts paired with leggings, paired with leg warmers and mis-matched socks; monkey goes with everything; sweaters buttoned ‘just so’, The House of Miss S is in business.

All our girls are given freedom of dress in our house. The only time they’re sent back for an alternative is when their butt cracks show or there are holes in wrong places.

It’s interesting to see what combos they come up with. Miss S, as I’ve mentioned is probably the most stylized; Miss C is still finding her groove and darn proud of being able to “No! I do it!”; while Miss Q sticks to the comfier side of fashion, opting for leggings and shirts.

It was only time before there was a fashion eruption.

Flashback: one month ago.

Miss C, Miss, Q and I were buckled and waiting for Miss S to figure out how to get the seatbelt over her skirt when Miss Q grumbled, “You know, Miss S, if you weren’t trying to be fancy all the time, we wouldn’t always be waiting for you.”

Miss S ignored her sister, got out of her carseat, took off her poofy skirt, climbed back in, and resumed buckling.

“You can’t always be the fanciest one in the house, you know.” Miss Q was picking up steam. “You’re always putting on fancy dresses and skirts and telling me I have to be the boy.”

Me: sitting in the front seat surpressing giggles.

But I felt Miss Q’s pain. I too, because of my height, was always cast as a boy when we were in school. But now, egad! Could it also have been the way I dressed?

Stretchy stirrup pants were all the rage in elementary school. When I wasn’t wearing them, I was in sweatpants or shorts. Jeans weren’t really in my vocab until high school, but even then I opted for sweats when not on display.

Something one of my friends and I joke about now that we’re married with three kids apiece is: How could two sweatpant loving girls have found love? But we did. I happened to find a husband who loves sweats as much as myself, so that’s how the world works, I guess.

However, hearing tales of her unfancy mum were not going to cut the current fashion fiasco facing our house. Miss Q felt plum underdressed compared to her sister, and probably though I don’t want this to be true at six-and-a-half compared to her (gulp) peers.

Apparently they alllll have their ears pierced. And one even wears the ever-so- practical-for-racing-around-the-schoolyard: strappy square high heals. Yes. She’s six.

“Sorry – dorry, you have to wait until you’re ten before you get your ears pierced.” An arbitrary number, pulled from the fact I was 10 when my ears were pierced. I’m sure the number’s negotiable, say nine or eleven, but we’ll cross that bridge in four or so years.

“Everything happens when I’m ten,” Miss Q retorted.

“Seems like.”

If you’re thinking this fancy moment was brought to you by the numbers 10 and letters Q and S, it’s not over.

Feeling for my oldest daughter who doesn’t get everyone’s fancy hand-me-downs, I hit up Target (this is a new to Victoria store, so sort of exotic) and found some fancy long-sleeved shirts – something she needed anyway.

Of course, for the last two days she hasn’t been wearing any of them. Instead, she’s skipped into her classroom wearing yoga pants under calf-length dresses and a hoodie that makes her look like a tiger over top it all. What does Mum know? This is what fancy looks like when you’re six.

Me

I enjoy watching soccer in the rain. Most of our crafts involve glitter, finger paint or both. I am learning to eat my vegetables. And, whether in socks or bare feet, I absolutely hate stepping on Lego. Here I blog about life with my three little girls, husband and dog.